Surely it was the eleventh grade in high school.
I figured I had it figured out.
You see the point was to put a time fuse on a Cherry Bomb.
Leave it the in boy’s bathroom before class and wait for the boom.
Not a bad plan for minor mayhem I figured. I would be sitting in class and looking about saying, “Dam what was that?”
Besides I told not a soul about the event.
After about ten minutes into the class I was wondering what was wrong. I excused myself from class, saying I needed to go the bath room. When I got to the bathroom I found out nothing was wrong with my plan, it was just that the “fuse” hadn’t had time to light the Cherry Bomb.
It was at this point I made a fateful decision. Do I forget about the whole thing, or carry on. The fateful decision I made was to let the fuse go ahead and burn down, instead of putting another “fuse” on it.
I decided to let it go. That was a bad decision. Anyhow I was back in the classroom about two minutes before the Cherry Bomb exploded, rattling every window in the school.
The next thing I heard was “Walter Hardester, come to the office.” Well shit, I had been caught, but no one saw me.
The Principal said, “You set off that Cherry Bomb.”
In my only defense I said, “But Mr. Stone, no one saw me so all you have here is circumstantial evidence.”
He laughed and said, “Son, this is Dooly County. Don’t you know that people have been hung here for less than circumstantial evidence.”
OK, I got a few licks from the “Board of Education” paddle hanging in his office.
But it taught me if you have a plan that will work, start over again and WAIT for the result.
You are one of those jokers, hah? It seems to me that one of my classmates dropped a cherry bomb down a toilet and flushed it to see if it would explode underwater like advertised. It did, and caused considerable plumbing damage!
I think that last line should have been, "… plan will work, [don't] start over again and wait for the result. From my experience, principals had an uncanny way of finding out who did things.
Raised on Black and White TV is Carol Denise Mitchell’s intimate, unflinching memoir of growing up in a world where television became both a refuge and a mirror. Through the glow of classic black‑and‑white programs, she learned about fami
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